


The Broken Prince

by FirozTaverbi



Series: Extended Universe [7]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Canon Compliant, Descriptions of injury and infection, Extended Universe, Gen, Mentions of Violence, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 10:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11530140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirozTaverbi/pseuds/FirozTaverbi
Summary: The former apprentices locate a familiar assassin, finding him rather worse for wear. (Semi compliant with Nebulabetta's and my shared extended universe.)





	The Broken Prince

The spring air was sweeping through the library in refreshing whorls after a long, stuffy winter. The breeze was a little cold, perhaps, but Ienzo was glad of the fresh air as he wiped away dust from the oakwood shelves, throwing up glittering particles in the beams of sunlight shining from the window. He had spent several months cataloguing the books which hadn't succumbed to insect, rodent or water damage, and once he had cleaned out the cobwebs and mouse droppings he would be ready to fill the shelves again.

  
Adjusting to completeness had been difficult, especially for Ienzo. Even months later he had to grapple with a constant sense of not knowing himself; while he was improving in his control over his emotional outbursts he still felt so vulnerable, at the mercy of his unpredictable heart. Aeleus had been stoic even before the Darkness claimed him, at least as far as Ienzo remembered, and it came as no surprise that he was stoic still. Dilan was settling into his usual manner once again, disguising flashes of anger with nothing more dangerous than sharp quips, curbing his fear into tension, alertness. And Even, who had not been the most stable even before he lost his heart, hardly screamed himself awake at night any more, although he had suffered through the bitter cold of winter with blankets and hot water bottles rather than consider lighting a fire in the hearth. The coming spring, even with the unpleasant reminder of the Lord of Castle Oblivion in the blossoming trees and splashes of colourful flowers, seemed to fill the none-too-young scientist with relief. There was something hopeful in the air, cheery even, which made it difficult to fear the nothingness which haunted them so doggedly.

  
Ienzo knew it was his duty to help the others protect and prepare for the return of their former superior, but with a winning combination of his silver tongue and Even's inability to deny him anything he wanted, he had convinced his old caretaker that the restoration of the library was of urgent importance and he, Ienzo, was better suited to preserving the books that remained than anything else. Even had wanted his assistance in the surgery, but he couldn't resist Ienzo's earnest face and barely veiled emotional manipulation. Aeleus and Dilan were to hunt down the other Somebodies using only their scant recollections of the neophytes' former lives. Ienzo was not alone in wishing them to remain in whatever distant worlds they had returned to - but their chances of survival against Xehanort's mind control were considered to be much improved if safeguarded in Radiant Garden, and the Keyblade bearers would allow nothing to be left for the scavenging Darkness.

  
Ienzo was dragging over a chair to reach the higher shelves when Aeleus pushed open the heavy door, bent double in an effort to catch his breath, and announced, "We've found Marluxia's Somebody."

  
Ienzo felt his body chill with disgust at the mention of the traitor's name. To think that they had not considered him a threat until Castle Oblivion. In retrospect, it was easy to see why Xemnas had been fooled: Marluxia's pretty face and mysterious smile was just what he had a weakness for, after all. But Ienzo was still bitterly angry that he had underestimated the Graceful Assassin, a sentiment made no less powerful by the memory of his family meeting their destruction thanks to Marluxia's games.

  
Ienzo put down his cloth. "And?"

  
"It's not good," Aeleus replied, standing again to his full height. "He may not last the night." Their eyes met for a brief moment, communicating the struggle they felt to care for the man's continued existence. "Usually we would fetch Even, but..." he needed explain no further: Ienzo sighed long-sufferingly and followed Aeleus to the castle sick bay, where Dilan was performing crude first aid on a pale, blood-soaked figure. Ienzo wrinkled his nose, assaulted by the stench of waste and infection. He felt a grim pleasure at seeing such a vain man brought so low, tinged with shame at his hope that the man would be too far gone to save.

  
Ienzo was no expert doctor like Even, but he had watched the elder man working enough times - and had an impressive enough memory - to know what to do, at least for now. The man on the table was barely recognisable as Marluxia, his skin so sunken and grey, his garments ragged, bruises and scratches discolouring his body. His limbs, limp and atrophied, jutted out from his body unnaturally; his wrists and angles were red with sores. It was clear that he had been tortured.

  
"Clearly not a welcome reunion with his homeworld," Ienzo remarked, not missing the way that Aeleus smirked before he caught himself.

  
"He was considered a traitor," Dilan explained.

  
"That's no overstatement," said Ienzo, glancing at some of the more infected injuries. He barked an order for Dilan to fetch a drip feed and Aeleus to remove the foul rags covering his patient and begin to clean out the worst of the wounds. The man's muscles twitched at the intrusion, but he only groaned a little, not waking. Remembering how Even had prepared healing baths so many times before for seriously injured patients, Ienzo set to work. "Perhaps it would be good for Even to see his reviled enemy in such a vulnerable state."

  
"Perhaps," Aeleus agreed. Under Ienzo's direction, they worked efficiently to clean the body, packing the deepest wounds with antiseptic gauze and forcing back the dislocated joints before the two larger men lowered him into the healing bath which Ienzo had set up. He imagined he would be hearing the awful crack of their patient's hips and shoulders for some time. He tried to distract himself with more clinical thoughts as he watched the translucent green gel envelope Marluxia's Somebody, the concentrated magic already beginning to wash away the lighter scratches and bruises.

  
"We'll check on him in a few hours," said Ienzo. "The healing gel should repair his surface wounds. I'll need Even's help to reduce and set the broken bones though. He may need surgery." He wondered if the infections would pose a problem: curing magic was not so effective when it came to eradicating pathogens. But he was sure Even could prescribe some powerful enough antibiotics, at least if they could convince him to. Ienzo imagined his mentor's nasal voice saying with open disgust, "let him rot".

  
"Did you ascertain his name?" he asked he pulled off his nitrile gloves, sanitising his hands for good measure. The sour, metallic scent remained.

  
"Lumaira," said Dilan and corrected himself with something of a sneer, "Prince Lumaira."

  
"Oh? Don't tell me he engineered his father's death to ascend to the throne." Ienzo turned back to his patient, casting an almost pitying eye over that swollen, defiled body.

  
This time Aeleus cut in. "No, he was only minor royalty."

  
"He may have attempted a coup, or some form of peasant uprising," Dilan elaborated as they left the sick bay. "Facts were rather thin on the ground, and once the natives got suspicious we weren't keen to stick around."

  
"So you kidnapped a political prisoner," Ienzo drawled lightheartedly. "I can't imagine that causing any kind of upset." The comment made him think of Even, most likely in the laboratory where he now spent the bulk of his free time. Someone was going to have to tell him that he now shared this world with the engineer of his annihilation. Preempting any suggestions that he was most suited to the task, Ienzo volunteered to no small amount of relief from the others.

  
The underground laboratories had been left derelict since the former apprentices woke with their hearts returned. Their old haunts had a sinister quality to them now, quite apart from the rust and rats. Instead Even had hauled whatever equipment still worked into an old ground-floor office: his workplace of choice was hardly fit to be called a laboratory and supported only the most primitive of experiments. Nevertheless in addition to his work as Radiant Garden's only general pracitioner, Even was making a bold attempt to understand their unexpected resurrection and, Ienzo suspected, escape his trauma through sheer force of hard work.

  
Today the eldest of Ansem's former apprentices was taking notes while lesser Nobodies clattered and clanged in their cages. Ienzo knocked on the open door, coughing politely to alert Even of his presence.

  
"How is your research faring?"

  
Even leaned back in his chair, taking a distracted sip of his coffee which turned into a splutter when he realised it was cold.

  
"Still no progress. The Nobodies leave nothing behind when they fade - at least, nothing I can observe. My only hypothesis is that the heart is somehow preserved in the Heartless form - and yet, we have memories from our existence as Nobodies, but not Heartless. It is clear that the heart alone does not possess identity... there is something else. Something I have failed to consider all these years."

  
Ienzo glanced at the wall of cages, the erratic, rhythmic, alien movements of the Nobodies inside. He found them hard to stomach, even after spending long afternoons helping Even administer toxins to the pathetic creatures.

  
"It seems that we've fundamentally misunderstood the nature of the Nobody," he suggested, distracting himself with the coffee percolator. Even's old cup of coffee was poured down the sink.

  
"Oh, yes, definitely," Even agreed. "But with such limited resources - and without observing the decomposition and reformation of a complete being - I fear I won't come any closer to the truth." He watched Ienzo with an affection that was almost uncomfortable, although Ienzo was sure he could remember such paternity from the closest thing he had to a father before they had lost their hearts. "Did you come here for something? It can't be time for dinner already, can it?"

  
Ienzo pulled up a stool.

  
"Aeleus and Dilan have brought back a Somebody," he said quite calmly, noting Even tense, colour draining from his already pale skin. "Marluxia - Lumaira, they called him. His condition was critical, but I stabilised him. He's in the sick bay now. I thought-"  Ienzo paused for a moment, studying his mentor's ashen face, "that it would be in your best interests to know. Several of his wounds are badly infected - I thought it best to leave prescribing antibiotics to you." He added, "That is, if he survives at all."

  
Even turned to face his work, although he gazed at it unseeingly. His thin, sharp eyebrows were drawn together in a deep scowl. Ienzo couldn't name the emotions he saw: anger? Fear? Something deeper, more visceral, for which they had no words?

  
"Was he brought here by force?" he asked after a long moment, shuffling papers. Ienzo shook his head.

  
"No. He was in a poor physical state when they found him. Dilan mentioned something about him being punished for crimes he committed in his homeworld."

  
Even nodded, satisfied - even relieved - by this.

  
"So there is some probability that he would die in our care. Perhaps he could still be of use to us..." He glanced up very briefly. But as quickly as those poisonous eyes caught Ienzo's Even turned away, shaking his head. "No. What am I thinking?" He swept his thinning hair over one shoulder, as though needing a distraction, catching an odd tangle or two as he threaded his fingers through his hair.

  
Ienzo, guessing with ease where Even's mind had travelled, said reassuringly, "It's unlikely he could survive any experimentation, especially one involving the Darkness."

  
"Of course," Even agreed hastily. "Of course, it would be too great a risk. Even a being so powerful as Marluxia - especially a being so powerful. Besides, it would be inhumane."

  
"Of course." Ienzo did not mention that inhumanity had never been much of an issue before the Darkness claimed them. But then, they hadn't known what it felt like to be swallowed by its monstrous appetite. To become a hideous parody of their own experiments.

  
Ienzo shuddered, recalling the unbearable emptiness of half-existence.

  
"I thought that perhaps you would like to see him. He's a mere shell of his former self." When Even didn't respond immediately, Ienzo stressed, "Perhaps it would be good to see that you have nothing to fear from him."

  
Even hummed in acknowledgement, but nothing more. He seemed tired. Older. Ienzo watched patiently as he set his journal aside and returned stray pens and pencils to their rightful places. Finally when there was nothing left to clear Even said, "Alright. I'll see him."

  
"With the exception of surgery, I can take care of him," Ienzo promised as they made their way from the makeshift laboratory. "Aeleus has experience reducing broken bones, but..."

  
"I can oversee the procedure," said Even, detachment returning to his voice. "And you mentioned infections. I have some stores of antibiotics in the freezer."  They walked on in silence, Even slowing his footsteps for his shorter companion's sake. Then, Even added quietly, "But there's no point wasting expensive medicines on a patient whose chances of survival are low."

  
"Of course," Ienzo agreed evenly, making no mention of the lengths Even would go to - had gone to - to save other patients, no matter how far gone. He had little doubt that Even would use all the medicines in Radiant Garden to save him, especially having failed to do so once before.

  
Ienzo's relationship with Even was... complicated. The scientist had practically been a surrogate father to him, but if a father's primary directive was to protect his son, Even had done a particularly poor job of it. Ienzo knew he was still torn apart by guilt, but he couldn't bring himself to forgive his old caretaker. He had lost too many of his formative years to pretend that things could 'go back to normal'. For Ienzo, 'normal' had no meaning, and that was in no small part a consequence of Even's actions.

  
Yet - Even was precious. He was family. Ienzo knew he would go to great lengths to protect him, and that he would do so in a heartbeat. The dissonance between his love and his anger was confusing, painful. Sometimes it made Even's company too much to bear.

  
They reached the sick bay, Even stalling before the heavy wooden doors.

  
"Come on," said Ienzo. "It won't do to work yourself into a fright."

  
Even's face twisted into a crooked smile.

  
"I used to say exactly that when you were afraid of monsters under your bed." He added with a touch of melancholy, "Although arguably I shouldn't have been so cavalier in that instance."

  
Following Ienzo, he stepped into the sick bay. His eyes immediately came to bear on the room's sole occupant. He approached the healing bath cautiously, as if expecting the unconscious man to spring to life at any moment. Ienzo watched the expression on his face transform from one of fear to disgust and rage. Reaching the glass case of blue-green gel, Even gripped the rim quite tightly, leaning over Lumaira's body to study his ragged, hollow face.

  
He hissed coldly, "If it were not for you... If it were not for your desire for power... None of this would have happened." He was silent for a few minutes, shaking, enraged. But then he repeated in a more conflicted tone, "If it weren't for you, none of this would have happened. We could all be slaves of Xehanort by now. Ironically, your selfishness may have precipitated a more favourable outcome."

  
Even shook his head, as if to clear his mind of such dissonant thoughts. Beginning to pace, he addressed Ienzo in his usual clinical voice, "Have you performed an X-ray scan? Those swellings on the patient's limbs could well be the result of complex fractures. The healing fluid is only effective down to an inch or so. I expect he will require injections for the deeper wounds. You were right to supply him with fluid and nutrients: he appears to be suffering from quite severe malnourishment."

  
"I only copied what I've seen you do a hundred times before," Ienzo said quite honestly, wishing his cheeks didn't flush at the merest hint of praise.

  
Even, perhaps in spite of himself, was pulling on a pair of disposable gloves. He plucked Lumaira's limp arm from the gel, turning it over to inspect the sharp lines and flower-like bruises on his skin.

  
"Some of these wounds are quite old," he observed. "This treatment has obviously gone on for some time. Marluxia - Lumaira, I should say, though it hardly matters - may not be in such a delicate position as first assumed." He pressed his fingers against Lumaira's arm, feeling for bone. "Yes, both the radius and ulna are fractured here, I expect through the force of some blunt object. Fetch me the scanner."

  
"You don't have to do this-" Ienzo began, but he was fixed with a stern look from his mentor.

  
"You were right, Ienzo," Even said, with a firmness that suggested he was trying to convince himself more than anything, "I have no reason to fear this pathetic creature."

  
"But you have every reason to hate him."

  
Even glanced back at Lumaira's bruised, haunted face. Stripped of its volume and shine his hair made him look dirty, ragged, more a beggar than a prince. He lowered the arm again, pressing it down lightly until it was sucked into the gel.

  
"You are right again. But..." Even pursed his lips. "If I hate him for the humanity he lacked - it seems in both his lives - then it would not do to lose sight of my own humanity." He took a deep breath, glancing at Ienzo again with that affectionate sorrow. "I have done that enough times already."

  
"How uncharacteristically wise of you," Ienzo quipped, meeting Even's eyes, hoping to convey his respect without mentioning it explicitly. Sincerity had the unfortunate power to reduce them to tears, even now. Luckily, Even smiled, shaking his head again, allowing them the privacy of their own emotions.

  
"Even old dogs can learn new tricks. Didn't I ask for the scanner?"

  
"Yes, yes, of course."

  
Once he got going, Even worked with an efficiency he was well renowned for. He quickly identified a number of fractures, some new, others beginning to heal over in awkward positions. After inspecting the worst infections, he applied some bitter smelling salves while instructing Ienzo to prepare half a dozen syringes of healing fluid, which he injected to the areas of worst tissue damage with the help of an ultrasound machine. All the while, he commented on the condition of his patient with a detached, passive tone, but Ienzo was not oblivious to the way Even would not turn his back on Lumaira, glancing only when necessary at that all too familiar face.

  
"We can leave him in the bath overnight," Even announced as he was removing his gloves. "His bones are too badly fractured to heal in that time. Aeleus can reduce them tomorrow, and splint them while I find an offworld supplier for casting." He seemed calmer now, checking over the IV feed, lining up his tools on a tray to be sterilised. Ienzo was about to make some comment, most likely about it being time to get a bite to eat, when Lumaira suddenly let out a long, agonised groan, his dark eyes fluttering open. Even, who had been putting something back in a cupboard, shrieked and staggered away from his patient before he could catch himself.

  
Lumaira's eyes flicked between Even and Ienzo, his expression a mixture of confusion and recognition.He opened his mouth to speak, but Even, brandishing a scalpel, snapped - "Don't move a muscle. You are our prisoner."

  
Lumaira twisted, uncomfortably, to inspect his body and the strange fluid it was floating in. As if seeing his disfigurement made it worse, he winced, sucking in a sharp breath as he tried to lift an arm.

  
"I thought I told you not to move!" Even hissed. Ienzo noticed that his hand was shaking, knuckles white around the handle of the scalpel.

  
Lumaira closed his eyes as if exhausted. Ienzo was beginning to wonder if he had lapsed back into unconsciousness, and Even was curiously leaning closer, when he croaked in a voice devoid of its former melody, "Why... did you rescue me?"

  
"It was certainly not my choice," Even spat, disguising his fear with revulsion. "I would have gladly let you rot, but you are fortunate that I have elected instead to treat your injuries out of the kindness of my heart."

  
Lumaira twitched. He whispered, "Heart..." and made no more sound than his deep, laboured breath.

  
"We should sedate him," Even announced, his voice catching on the high notes. He carefully replaced the scalpel on the tray, the clatter of metal on metal seeming loud and jarring.

  
"I'm sure there's no need for that," Ienzo assured him. "He's hardly fit to speak, let alone move." He placed what he hoped was a calming hand on Even's arm. "Why don't we get something to eat, and you can reassess the situation when your nerves have calmed a little."

  
"You're right, Ienzo," Even agreed, letting his younger companion lead him away from their patient. As they left he glanced back nervously, but Lumaira was still. They made their way to the canteen, strangely empty without the hustle and bustle of residents they had once been accustomed to. In the kitchen just one refrigerator was running, and most of the cupboards were empty. While Even made himself a cup of coffee Ienzo set the rice cooker running and began chopping whatever vegetables he could find in the crisper.

  
"You should be more careful about your caffeine intake," he said gently, watching Even spoon more coffee grouts into the cafetiere than seemed strictly necessary.  
"Old habits die hard," was Even's response. "I'm not the young man I used to be. I just don't have enough energy these days."

  
"I'm sure sleeping better would help."

  
"Yes," said Even, solemnly. "Yes, I imagine it would."

  
They were joined by Dilan and Aeleus some time later, as the sky was shedding its daytime blue. They had sent word to the Keyblade bearers that another Somebody had been brought to Radiant Garden. Dilan reported that Sora, the boy who had caused them all such strife, would arrive from Traverse Town the following morning to meet the man named Lumaira.

  
"It's ironic that, thanks to Naminé's work, Sora has no memory of meeting Marluxia, when he was the very one who defeated him," Dilan said, helping himself to rice. Even snickered bitterly.

  
"What I would give for her talents."

  
Ienzo felt a pang of pity for his former mentor; he had to turn away to distance himself before his chest burned too painfully. What any of them would exchange for the chance to forget what it felt like to die.

  
"Lumaira was unconscious when we found him," Aeleus reported, perhaps noticing the turn of the mood in the air. "He woke briefly while we were freeing him, but if he recognised us there was no evidence of it."

  
"He knew who we were," Ienzo said. "But he was confused... he only asked why we'd rescued him." Even nodded sagely, making no show of how much Lumaira had scared him. "He's clearly no risk to us in his current state," Ienzo finished.

  
"If he betrayed the Organisation he may readily ally himself with us, against Xehanort's forces of Darkness," Dilan suggested, but he was met with a sneer from Even.  
"You assume he betrayed us for anything other than selfish reasons. Ultimately none of us understand his true intentions or capabilities. Not," he added sourly, "That that is any impediment to the bearers of the Keyblade offering their trust."

  
"Regardless, as injured as he is he'll be of no use to anyone, even himself," Ienzo quickly interjected. The subject of Lea was not one he wanted to linger on. He had expressed his remorse not long after allying himself with the Keyblade bearers, but Ienzo was not enough a saint to look into the eyes of the man who had watched him die - who had precipitated the death of all he longed to care about - and grant him forgiveness. Fortunately Lea was intelligent enough to know that he was unwelcome in the castle and aside from the flickers of movement in the shadows which followed him Ienzo was largely successful at exorcising the treacherous fire mage from his waking thoughts.

  
"Yes," Even agreed with some force, "Yes, for now at least he is no threat to us."

  
"So you examined his injuries?" Aeleus asked. He was leaning forwards, bare arms resting on his thighs. When he did move there was a stiffness to his motions. Ienzo wondered if he had been sleeping badly lately. Of all of the apprentices, Aeleus had coped with his death and resurrection the best - in calm, stoic silence and simple understanding of the agony of his comrades. Ienzo knew he was deeply indebted to the guardian for caring for him and Even when they were at their most vulnerable: what troubled him the most was knowing it was a debt he could very likely never repay.

  
"At the very least he will require extensive surgery to fix his broken bones. The fractures will not heal on their own - at least, not without crippling our unfortunate patient. Which could well work to our advantage, if he proves untrustworthy."

  
"We know Xehanort is a body thief," Dilan warned through a mouthful of food. "The last thing we want is to give Lumaira a reason to seek a trade with our former master." Even tutted irritably, yielding with a sideways glare. Dilan glanced at his companions, then added quietly, "If he is so badly injured a quick and painless death would not be so cruel."

  
The others didn't want to agree: but they did.


End file.
